A Vampire's Fear
A short epistle written by Isaac the vampire to Lucinda a female vampire. In it Isaac mourns the loss of his sire and expresses his greatest fear.
My Dearest Lucinda,
I am glad that you are doing well. I wish I was doing well too, but I have sad news to report. I have lost my sire. As you too have felt the pain of losing a sire, you are well aware that to lose a sire is to lose a parent. Our sires give us unlife and allow our mortals souls to live on forever. It was given to our kind to know the secrets of life and death by the Dark Magician of Atlantis. I still remember the day when I learned of this secret. I was a young lad then, which in my appearance, I am still young. My body is three and twenty-years-old, but my mind is much older. It was at my deathbed that my sire appeared to me. I knew of his kind only in fables told to me by my grandmother.
"Isaac, would you like to live forever," spoke my sire as the fever held my body.
I was lying on my own bed in my own small modest house and this pale white being haunted my mind. I cried out. "Not, I. My soul belongs to the Lord. I will not give thee hold over me."
My sire replied, "Isaac, my soul too belonged to the Lord and is with the Lord, at least, it is my faith that my soul is with the Lord. Vampires only appear alive. Mankind has two souls, one is a counterfeit soul and the other is a golden soul. The golden is the immortal soul that belongs to the Lord, while the counterfeit soul is the soul of the intellect. The golden soul leaves the body and the counterfeit soul dies without the pure bright light of the golden soul. But, the counterfeit can escape this death. Would you like to live forever, in a sense?"
My golden soul cried out and spoke, "This is wrong die your natural death."
My counterfeit soul replied, "Silence, you shall receive your reward, while only darkness awaits me."
I smiled weakly at my sire. "Yes, preserve my intellect."
And that is what we have, dear Lucinda, a preserved intellect that mocks life, but it is a dear possession to the flesh.
I fear I bore you with things already known to you, so I will now impart to you the cause of my mourning.
One evening my father was waiting for me at the edge of a forest with a grin on his visage.
"My son, I have heard the sweet sound of pagan priestesses paying homage to a Spirit not known to me."
I replied, "My father, this is America and the season of the Trump. There are no pagans in this Christian land."
My sire hushed me and commanded me to turn my ear towards the direction that he indicted. I did so and heard the chanting. I sniffed the air and smelled virgin blood. My eyes grew wide and we raced with our vampire's speed through the forest.
We reached the site and saw three dark-haired maidens dancing around a bonfire. My master clouded the maidens' minds and they collapsed on the ground in a terrible heap. I raced to one and my master to another. I tore her dress off and had my way with her, but careful not to deflower her, and then I drank her down. That tasty virgin blood filling my body with life. Oh, Lucinda how hard it is to find an adult virgin these days. Their sweet blood is like a soothing balm to us and it gives us more strength than we normally would have.
But, in our haste for this sweet nectar we forgot about the third maiden. She must have freed her mind from my master's power, for she screamed, "O' Mother-Maiden, life of us all – avenge thy servants."
A terrible musky scent filled my nostrils and I tossed the dead maiden off my lap. Too late! We saw him – a great shaggy beast with a human countenance. Lucinda, I tell you, this thing was huge and it had gigantic feet. I turned my face towards my master and he had a look of disgust on his face and his upper lip was raised in a snarl. He jumped up and flew toward the beast. Almost quicker than my vampire's eye could follow, the beast swatted the flying object that was my master. My poor father hit the ground hard and lay motionless. The beast raised its great hairy leg and stomped on my father. I watched my sire become a bloody pulp. My father gave up the ghost and it is with great shame that I tell you this part.
Fear seized my heart. A fear that I had never known before. I used all my energy and power to become a bat. I flew away, instead of challenging the great beast. Many of our kind would cheer at this feat, for few can assume the form of a bat. It was the virgin's blood and shame that allowed me to do so. I have no pride to boast of. I was once a man, but now I am a child afraid of the dark.
I hope I still have your respect and friendship, dearest Lucinda.